I am Batman!
by Blue Willow
Summary: Kurt Hummel gets rescued by Batman. Millionaire playboy Noah Puckerman finds Kurt to be hard to resist. Doesn't every Batsuit need feathers?


Chapter One-

Barring a bloody lip and a few bruises, Kurt was doing okay, for a guy taken hostage and tied to a chair. He just couldn't stand how sweaty and grimy his clothes were. Stupid thugs. They had no class.

Said thugs were crowded around a portable TV, all packed inside the tiny office like a can of smelly sardines. Kurt wrinkled his nose just looking at them. When the newswoman on TV started talking about ransom demands, Kurt sighed. He knew his dad would pay anything for his release but he shouldn't have had to. He was a mechanic, for god's sake, not some kind of rich person, like many of the other guys they'd met dealing with politics.

The flicker of a shadow in the distance caught Kurt's eye but it passed quickly, leaving him uncertain if he'd actually seen it in the first place. It could have been just a bird passing across the moon.

"What's that?" One of the thugs straightened and peered upward.

"You're seeing things again, Parker," another said.

Not two seconds later, a cape-wearing figure dropped from the sky. Kurt cheered silently when his captors were taken out one by one. When they all lay unconscious on the concrete floor, strewn there like littered trash, the guy in the batsuit came to stand before Kurt.

"Thank god," Kurt breathed.

"You're welcome," the Batman responded with a cocky smirk.

Kurt's eyes narrowed. "I'm an atheist."

"Yeah? I'm Jewish." The Batman began untying the knots binding Kurt's hands and feet to the chair, then hauled him up firemen-style.

"Hey," Kurt squawked, arms and legs flailing.

Batman smacked him on the ass. "Calm down, babe. This is a rescue."

"I am not a babe."

The Batman dropped so that they were standing side-by-side at the edge of the rooftop. Kurt gasped and latched onto the rubber-clad chest beside him. A hand snaked around his waist, pausing to grope at his backside, and suddenly they were airborne.

Kurt let out one shrill wail of fear, then buried his face against Batman's neck.

"Relax. We're fine-"

The two of them dangled in mid-air and swayed back and forth. The Batman cursed and pulled a cell phone out of his Bat...pocket?

"Hey, you jerk. I thought you said over a hundred feet. This can't be more than fifty."

"I'm going to be sick," Kurt moaned. All this back and forth was making him dizzy.

"That's it. I'm getting Abrams next time." Batman hung up and shifted Kurt so that he was tucked tighter under his arm. "Don't panic."

"Wha-?"

The little contraption keeping them suspended suddenly unlocked and they plummeted downward. Kurt squeezed his eyes shut. With a whirring sound, they were once again swinging back and forth, but kept falling downwards between each swing. It was like a demented George of the Jungle thing.

The world kept moving when Kurt's feet finally met the ground and he clung to Batman's arm, though the superhero-superhero, ha!-tried to shake him off.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it, you're grateful-I ain't going to kiss you goodbye, so you can forget that."

Kurt looked at him, both of him, said, "Me Jane, you Tarzan," and fainted.

x

He woke up in a hospital bed with his dad hovering over him. As grateful as he was to see him, Kurt couldn't help but look over his father's shoulder and search for the man in a batsuit.

"Thank god you're alright," Burt murmured into his son's hair. "I've been worried sick about you."

Kurt smiled and patted Burt's arm. "I'm fine, Dad. You don't have to worry about me."

"Kid, you just got taken hostage and beaten. I think that gives me reason to worry."

"Well, I did get saved. You can stop worrying now."

Burt's face brightened. "Hey, I got news. You know that lady we helped the other day?"

"The one with the flat tire?"

"That's the one. We've got a date."

Kurt sat up straight at the news and clapped his hands together. "You've got to let me dress you. Where are you going?"

"Now, Kurt, we don't need anything fancy-"

"Dad. Where are you going?"

"To that French restaurant you like so much, Chaz Moller."

Kurt gasped and clapped his hands together. "Oh, my god. You got reservations at Chez Mollier? How in the world did you manage that?"

"Well, I do know some people now, Kurt," Burt said with a chuckle.

Kurt waved his hand in the air dismissively. "Oh, I know you do, Dad. But Chez Mollier! Only the top celebreties ever manage to get into that place. And, no offense, Dad, but you're not exactly the Patty LuPone of politicians."

"Thanks, kiddo."

Kurt suddenly yawned. Being awake just this long had already tired him out. "Sorry," he muttered.

Burt pulled the covers up over his son's shoulders. "Get some rest. You can plan my whole wardrobe when you feel better."

Kurt smiled and closed his eyes. His dreams were filled with Armani suits and fancy boots-and if a certain rubber-suited superhero popped up every now and then, who was he to fight a good dream?


End file.
